Is Riccardo Tisci the new Taylor Swift? We explore designers’ obsessions with celebrity squads
It’s the year of the Squad™ and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.
Why? Well, most of us aren’t famous, which means our squads — by definition — are just regular friendships. Second, squads have expanded past the borders initially dictated by Oscar-time Vanity Fair covers and/or whatever it is Taylor Swift has formed. (An army? The cafeteria scene in Mean Girls? We’ll literally never know.) Now, they’ve infiltrated the fashion world, and we’ve got designers like Riccardo Tisci and Olivier Rousteing Insta-bragging about their posses. They are everywhere. (And by “they,” we of course mean celebrities.)
To start, this isn’t a bad thing. In the case of Alexander Wang’s Do Something campaign, he called on 38 of his nearest and dearest celebrity besties to front for the cause that supports youth and social changes — which is exactly the type of discourse we should be creating in a relatively apathetic climate. He also used his celebrity connections for good. Sure, it’s a bummer that it takes the face of a famous person (or many of them) to attract attention, but at least Wang is, well, doing something. This isn’t a secret trip to Hawaii in which everyone’s posing adorably on a yacht.
Because that’s the vibe of most of this year’s squad-happy posts. As if ripped from the pages of our high school social guidelines, big names have swapped discretion for a one-way ticket to Planet “Look At Me,” with celebrity friendships and/or posses taking priority on Instagram. And it’s a lot. But what makes it interesting is how much it normalizes everyone.
“But Anne!” you start, glaring angrily at the screen. “Famouses alongside famouses does not a normal make!”
And you are correct. While few of us (or none of us) are famous designers, musicians, actors, or models, there is something adorably thirsty about bragging about being friends with some. And that’s the point: like we would (and do, depending on how much we’re excited about our friendships), stars become taken. And as they give away their enthusiasm and/or capacity to fan-out, they remind us of two very important things: 1) you are never too successful to get stoked about meeting a celebrity, and 2) everyone is accessible.
Of course, in terms of the latter, there are limits. (Like security guards.) But seeing the odd pairings that dictate the majority of celebrity friendships fuels the major realization that these are just people. Or more importantly, this is all very high school. Celebrity Instagram has become the 2015 equivalent of our ICQ infoboxes, where we listed our friends and bragged about who we knew because it made us feel cool. And while it’s nice to think we all outgrew it, I think we all know better.
What’s most surprising, though, is the role reversal between fashion and celebrity worlds. Once upon a time, celebrities showed off their designer friends (think: the ’90s and 2000s), and now, that’s flipped. The idea of “collecting friends” has expanded into an industry that was already built on fake relationships (sorry), but gone on to erase the guise of cool that dictated the majority of them. Now, it’s okay to brag about hanging out with Kim Kardashian or Beyonce — because those celebrities are important, and nonchalance be damned. It was never only about the clothes, obviously. But in terms of fashion-centric Squad Goals in 2015, it’s about which celeb is wearing the clothes — and whether you were with them while they were.
So what does this mean? Well, that all of us are equally unhip, regardless of fame, wealth, or celebrity connections. The thirst is real (take a sip), and no amount of success will erase the need for validation or approval or that feeling of, “Holy shit I know this person!” that I’m sure comes with being pals with Kim K. Of course, we don’t know if anybody is really friends, or if they’re gunning for Instagram likes, or whether they’re throwing a name into the mix like we did on ICQ, hoping to impress that guy who’d see you were totally friends with Dave now, so take that, Mark.
The only thing we know is that stars really are just like us.
 on May 24, 2015 at 3:28am PDT
It’s the year of the Squad™ and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.
Why? Well, most of us aren’t famous, which means our squads -- by definition -- are just regular friendships. Second, squads have expanded past the borders initially dictated by Oscar-time Vanity Fair covers and/or whatever it is Taylor Swift has formed. (An army? The cafeteria scene in Mean Girls? We’ll literally never know.) Now, they’ve infiltrated the fashion world, and we’ve got designers like Riccardo Tisci and Olivier Rousteing Insta-bragging about their posses. They are everywhere. (And by “they,” we of course mean celebrities.)
To start, this isn’t a bad thing. In the case of Alexander Wang’s Do Something campaign, he called on 38 of his nearest and dearest celebrity besties to front for the cause that supports youth and social changes -- which is exactly the type of discourse we should be creating in a relatively apathetic climate. He also used his celebrity connections for good. Sure, it’s a bummer that it takes the face of a famous person (or many of them) to attract attention, but at least Wang is, well, doing something. This isn’t a secret trip to Hawaii in which everyone’s posing adorably on a yacht.
Because that’s the vibe of most of this year’s squad-happy posts. As if ripped from the pages of our high school social guidelines, big names have swapped discretion for a one-way ticket to Planet "Look At Me," with celebrity friendships and/or posses taking priority on Instagram. And it’s a lot. But what makes it interesting is how much it normalizes everyone.
“But Anne!” you start, glaring angrily at the screen. “Famouses alongside famouses does not a normal make!”
And you are correct. While few of us (or none of us) are famous designers, musicians, actors, or models, there is something adorably thirsty about bragging about being friends with some. And that’s the point: like we would (and do, depending on how much we’re excited about our friendships), stars become taken. And as they give away their enthusiasm and/or capacity to fan-out, they remind us of two very important things: 1) you are never too successful to get stoked about meeting a celebrity, and 2) everyone is accessible.
Of course, in terms of the latter, there are limits. (Like security guards.) But seeing the odd pairings that dictate the majority of celebrity friendships fuels the major realization that these are just people. Or more importantly, this is all very high school. Celebrity Instagram has become the 2015 equivalent of our ICQ infoboxes, where we listed our friends and bragged about who we knew because it made us feel cool. And while it’s nice to think we all outgrew it, I think we all know better.
What’s most surprising, though, is the role reversal between fashion and celebrity worlds. Once upon a time, celebrities showed off their designer friends (think: the '90s and 2000s), and now, that's flipped. The idea of “collecting friends” has expanded into an industry that was already built on fake relationships (sorry), but gone on to erase the guise of cool that dictated the majority of them. Now, it’s okay to brag about hanging out with Kim Kardashian or Beyonce -- because those celebrities are important, and nonchalance be damned. It was never only about the clothes, obviously. But in terms of fashion-centric Squad Goals in 2015, it’s about which celeb is wearing the clothes -- and whether you were with them while they were.
So what does this mean? Well, that all of us are equally unhip, regardless of fame, wealth, or celebrity connections. The thirst is real (take a sip), and no amount of success will erase the need for validation or approval or that feeling of, “Holy shit I know this person!” that I’m sure comes with being pals with Kim K. Of course, we don’t know if anybody is really friends, or if they’re gunning for Instagram likes, or whether they’re throwing a name into the mix like we did on ICQ, hoping to impress that guy who’d see you were totally friends with Dave now, so take that, Mark.
The only thing we know is that stars really are just like us.){kind=link}